Shambling down the narrow lanes he

carried his world, 

broken long ago

by words and shortages

and grumbles,

daily struggling 

but friendly

encouragers, urging

use of drugs

and alcohol,

shoved him along the paved

road that battled

to bury the pain

and led to a hell

where, craving the numbing money,

facing the beatings,

and abuse of the 


who think that they

are all above that.

Jesus shuffled down the narrow street

carrying the world

with him in

his battered

body, weakened

and bloody,

flesh and soul

craving any drug

to kill the pain

but, for that man,

he dies in agony. 

Giving us a glimpse

of a 




one who longs

to heal the lonely wanderer

burdened with losses,

and bring them

to a safe place

where the unlovely are loved,

and the addict welcomed,

and hope is found in a cave 

that was a father’s womb.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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